Well first, let me sincerely thank y'all for the bday wishes. So sweet, and I tried to respond to them all.

I had a really great birthday, and I cant even tell you how depressed I was when I got off the plane at BWI and heard the first Bawtuhmore accent. *sigh*

It's really over.

Back to reality.

Loser Week has set in HARD.

I got so much to tell yall about my trip...but I can't remember most of it.

So here's what I do recall (cuz lists are my new fav thing)...

30 THINGS I LEARNED IN VEGAS (this will be particularly helpful for you N@BJ folk headed there in August)....

1. What happens in Vegas carries a logistical improbability of occurring anywhere else...so it really does need to stay there.

...You could get shitfaced, layed, win dough and have the time of your life...all within any given one block radius. I do not know this from personal experience.

...I really like to drink. I really, really, really do. And yes, it does feel like a new discovery.

...There is only one black club on the strip, and there really only needs to be, cuz LV is not a black town. But just about every club plays hip hop.

5. White women find me insufferably sexy. Especially naked.

...Ballers really DO have more fun.

...A limo does not a baller make.

...You can't travel with everybody. This applies exponentially to family and childhood friends.

...Dudes are indiscriminately visual. It reminds me of my 2yr old nephew and his obsession with Barney. Toss a girl in shorts on a podium in a club and they will stare without blinking.

10. I'm convinced they have NOTHING else to talk about beyond every woman that walks past. That shit gets boring fast.

...Good food unlocks the key to my panties and burns away the few inhibitions I have left.

...Mehk! Phiffer is taller than I thought. Uglier, too.

...They charge for EVERYTHING...but the club is the only place you cant sneak in.

...I have anti-social tendencies and require alone time.

15. Growing up often means outgrowing the people you grew up with.

...Carry cash. If you charge things, check your account before you leave town cuz those sons of bitches make a killing by double and triple charging your card.

..."Hey hon, I just won at blackj@ck," is the going come on line. It's ok to fall for it the first time.

...The Veg@s industry would be screwed if the immigration cops ever rolls up.

...Toni Br@xton is too old to be on somebody's billboard with her hoot'nanny all out.

20. The Bell@gio hotel has the best buffet in the world. You CAN sneak in...and take home some jumbo shrimp in a napkin to enjoy on the 4-hour flight home. (OK, yeah I do know from personal experience)

...Sneaking in to places shoulda been on my list of things I'll stop doing now that Im 30.

...G'town Hoy@s!!! *clap clap clap clap clap*

...I need to reconcile my interracial issues before I go back.

...Kissing random boys in front of my brothers is gonna be harder than I thought...but they can't stop me from dressing slutty.

25. Don't tell anyone where you're staying...unless you want them to show up. Cuz they will show up.

Thursday, March 15, 2007

I will have had passed out somewhere on the Las Vegas S+rip, gotten a teary phone call from my mother, and eaten too much butter cream.

Yessss…ya girl So Easy Weazy’s got a born day coming up, and it’s a biggie.

But ya know, muhfcukas be taking this whole 30’s +he new 20 nonsense too damn far. Maybe it’s just me, but my 20s weren’t all that to be wantin to do a repeat and shit. I mean, like 5th grade was fun as hell, but if I had gotten a note on my last report card that gave me the option to forgo 6th and do it again, I wouldn’t.

Or, you ever make a bomb azz sandwich, and it’s so good you go make another one? And you guessed it…you didn’t quite recreate the whole wheat, light mayo magic.

Even great sex is often better left for that one time only.

Frankly, as I look towards the prospect of God blessing me with another 10 years of life, I am hoping, no… praying for newness. New adventures, new friends, new loves, new insight, new opportunities, new ideas, new blessings.

Because the OLD adventures, friends, loves, insight, opportunities, ideas and blessings are already a part of me. I won’t grow without savoring a new set of tastes.

So here’s my list of 30 Things I’ma Do Now That I’m 3o…

1. Read Invisible Man...Go to Europe...Learn the diff btwn a straight and curved mascara brush (then buy the right one (currently using straight))...See Les Mis5. Make friends with a famous person...Start telling young boys to pull up their damn pants (and that chain wallets and glitter belts are 'so 5 years ago' white and gay, respectively)...Stick with spinning and belly dancing...BUY good music instead of downloading...Finish a manuscript10. Outline my thesis...Join church...Invest more aggressively in mutual funds...Enter the word 'gregarious' into my conversational lingo...Make a Puerto Rican friend15. Begin a letter campaign to put pressure on studios to release Webs+er, 15, and Benson on DVD...Contribute to a political campaign (who am I fooling? Something will happen and I'm gonna get pissed and say eff it and not give a eff until I go vote)...Get tested for ADD (not to be confused with A1DS, which is what this looks like if you read it fast. PS...I been tested)...Publish at least 5 articles...Volunteer at something20. Make and market a porn flick (starring someone other than me)...Start the travel group...Curse in front of my nephews...Learn to cook curry goat...Get into a good fist fight25. Pitch the Pilot...No more perms (I'm already 3 months in!)...Make Amends with the Ex Con...Fcuk him and get it out of my system ...Spend a lot of money on a handbag30. Wear slutty clothes and kiss random boys in front of my big brothers:)Honorable Mention:

1. Stop drinking on an empty stomach (I vowed this when I turned 21, too)

Monday, March 05, 2007

I go to a black school in a very black city. On a day to day basis the only interactions I have with non-black folk is my Indian homegirl, and maybe an intercultural stare down at a 4-way stop as I’m rolling thru town.

So imagine the jolt when I went to pole dancing class on Saturday and shared a small, confined space with a bunch of white girls.

It was like grade school gym class all over again. So weird, that I was conscious of not so much being in their presence, but in having been away for so long. I was reminded of their mannerisms, the way they stand. The white girl way of slumping shoulders and flinging bangs. Freckles. Pancake azzes. Sneakers with shoelaces actually tied (and tied tightly at that). Still wet hair.

I can make these observations because I’m white-familiar. I didn’t grow up in a colored-only city. Me and Tawandas and Maliks and Latonyas grew up with Beccas and Siobhans and Lauras and Heidis and Katies. I have a point of reference, and very few racial biases that are not personally rooted in individual experiences.

But then I became conscious of the very real possibility that these chicks didn’t grow up with Keishas and Briannas and Kadijahs. That maybe I was their intermittent incarnation of Bl@ck History Month. And suddenly, I was embarrassed of “my” image.

Shit, seemed like that month was never gonna end. Is it me, or was that the longest 28 days EVER? My stance on the occasion…in short, I think it’s absurd to think you can wrap us into the short month. But I also think it’s a very necessary way to force white folks (shit, us too) to acknowledge our accomplishments, contributions, struggles.

But if you do not live or work with or around or near Black folks, then what exactly have you learned about us?

We proudly confirm that white folks were dead wrong for not allowing us to act all these years. We’re not just great athletes, dammit. If there’s one thing we CAN do it’s sing. And if given the opportunity we can also dance and bring humanity to African dictators, too! (All jokes and sarcasm aside, FW’s performance was amazing!)

And no, Blacks are NOT lagging behind academically. Did you hear how clear Mary read off those 50+ names in her Grammy acceptance speech? I hope ‘Tasia pass her test too.

We are also proudly… braid by braid, thug by thug… ceremoniously cutting off the cornrows (Jermaine O’N!el, Rip Hamilton), and being rewarded for it (Luda).

I don’t know about yall, but I need the month of March to recoup. We had a very busy 28 days.

I’m not sure how well I’m actually living up to “my” image.

But I do know that the black folks that most white folks “know”… the ones they liberally invite into their lives daily via TV, newspaper, music and film…are new to me too. I tune in to learn about this bizarre (televised) black culture myself. And I consider myself black-familiar. lol

Forgive me if I don't appear in the mood to celebrate. That's just public perception.